Resistance
by tree489
Summary: At Bill and Fleur's wedding, Hermione is captured by Death Eaters. Voldemort requests that Draco be her primary interrogator, thinking that he'll know ways inside her mind because he knew her in school. What Voldemort doesn't realize is that Draco is having doubts of his own, and may not be getting all that he's bargaining for.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Death Eaters appeared in the dimly lit front hall of Malfoy Manor in rapid succession. Their exclamations of triumph echoing off the cold, marble walls and floor. The attack on the Weasley wedding was a greater success than they had hoped for one key reason.

Doors flew open at the far end of the dark hall and all voices halted as their master entered slowly.

"What is the meaning for all this noise?" Voldemort demanded.

Bellatrix Lestrange came forward dragging a limp female body behind her. She wore a maniacal smile on her face. "My Lord, the boy was there, but he was too well protected, although we caught the entire party completely off guard. But, we captured the brains behind their little trio," she said as she threw Hermione Granger at Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort betrayed no emotion about the capture. He bent down slowly, taking a long finger and mechanically pushed the girl's hair out of her face.

"Excellent work," he said, standing up.

"All of you, leave me now! I will take care of the Granger girl myself."

* * *

Before Draco was summoned to the Dark Lord he had heard of Granger's capture. He had been part of the raid - that bloody Potter had disarmed him and took his wand, leaving him to fend for himself without magic. Capturing anyone was the least of his concern at that point. All he wanted was to get out alive and to escape capture himself.

It was Aunt Bellatrix who had captured her, much to Voldemort's pleasure. She had essentially solidified her position as his most prized and valuable follower with this success. Now, as Malfoy stood before Voldemort with Granger laying, unconscious at his feet, covered in cuts and bruises already, he wondered why he was called to a private meeting with the Dark Lord. After the last mission, he dreaded any new responsibilities. All he wanted was to float along, under his radar. He wanted to live for awhile without feeling that is life is on the line after he only just started to regain the peace of mind and the weight he'd lost. He was finally beginning to look and feel like himself again.

Voldemort had not been pleased that the plan was modified at the last second. Draco knew that he was supposed to kill Dumbledore, and to hopefully lose his life in the attempt. It was only because of Severus that he wasn't killed for hesitating to kill the man, and Voldemort wouldn't take weakness from him again.

"As you were part of this successful raid, you are already aware of our great success last night, so I don't need to go over the details. But as you see here, we have Potter's mudblood friend with us."

Draco nodded. "It truly is a great success, my Lord."

"Yes. Things have been going my way the past few months. First Dumbledore, now this girl. But I am very angry right now," Voldemort said slowly. He levitated Granger's limp body in front of him and Draco could finally see her face, which had been turned away from him and covered by her thick hair. She still wore her dress from the wedding.

Draco was reminded of how she looked dressed up for the Yule Ball, and their encounter late in the night.

_"Look what we have here. A distraught, crying Granger, caught off her guard," Draco said, coming up to the hidden stairs Hermione sat crying on._

_"Go on, call me mudblood and whatever else you'd like. Just get it over with so I can get on with my evening," Hermione replied half-heartedly._

_"What's this now? Defeatist Granger? Don't think I've ever seen this before..are you just upset about a little fight with a certain weasel?" Draco replied, mocking her._

_She turned bright red and seemed about to scream._

_"You really are upset because Weaselbee is a bloody git? Think you'd know that by now, Granger." The pure mocking, insulting tone was almost gone, and he sounded more shocked than anything._

_"Sometimes, I'd like to be able to forget," she said through gritted teeth._

_"You're too smart for that git," Draco said, pointing out what was so obvious to him. "Too bad you're a mudblood."_

_Suddenly Hermione lashed out at him. "Get away from me!"_

_Draco laughed and walked away._

Draco had completely forgotten about that conversation, which now felt like a lifetime ago. But his sentiments remained the same. She looked better than anyone else at that ball, and those looks combined with intelligence made it a pity she wasn't a pureblood. He felt certain that if she were standing before them as she looked

"What a pity that such a fine looking specimen must be so dirty on the inside. Don't you agree, Draco?" Voldemort said, running a long finger from Hermione's temple to jaw, causing her to go rigid.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied, suddenly fearful the Dark Lord could read his thoughts, so he redirected them back to on the task at hand.

"Draco...I have discussed with your father and Severus, and we agree that you are ready for another responsibility of extreme importance to my cause," Voldemort said as he turned around to look at Malfoy. "While things did not go as planned last time, you did get us into the castle. That was essential and I like to reward those who do their best work for me with greater responsibility."

"My Lord, I am honored. What is it that you ask of me?" Draco said, kneeling down before him in gratitude. He hid his extreme nervousness, as the last time he was asked to do something for this man, his life was on the line, everyone's life was on the line. And he was asked to commit murder. Draco braced himself for what the Dark Lord would ask, fearful it would be another task setting him up for failure.

"I am placing you in charge of getting information from this girl. She will be challenging. She let nothing out for me in the last few hours. And as tempted as I am to kill her, I know that she will be a useful asset for finding the boy. So I need to keep her alive but I have many things to attend to in the upcoming months, so I cannot devote the time I need to getting information from this girl. Your aunt Bellatrix spoke up for the responsibility, and while she is naturally suited to these sorts of assignments, I think this one is perfect for you."

"I will do whatever you ask of me with regards to Granger," Draco replied, his tension mounting. He knew that he was no tormentor. Sure, in words he could be ruthless. And there was a time when he'd have given anything to have Granger at his disposal. Like after that time she punched him in third year. But he knew there were strings attached to Voldemort's request.

"Excellent," Voldemort said slowly. "I am asking you because you know her better than anyone else here. It was Severus' idea and your father was in full support. We all think you could get more out of her than others. You can get inside her mind. You know what really makes her tick."

"I will get you the information, my Lord. Her mind will slowly be broken down, by whatever means necessary," Draco said, his mind racing as he thought of ways, any way to approach this assignment.

"Good. Now, I'll have her transported to a cell until she awakes from the potion I gave her, which should happen in a few hours. You will then take her to her room in the dungeons then. She has a different situation than others, since the two of you might need privacy at times. In the morning, you'll begin interrogations."

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied.

Voldemort paused a moment, but Draco knew better than to leave before being dismissed. "Draco, I hope you feel the honor of this task you have at hand here."

"I do my lord. I am grateful to serve you this way."

"I am glad. You must do what you can to get something out of her. But I do want you to recognize that she will not be easy. She has surely trained for this, she is loyal to that infuriating boy and she believes she would rather die than betray him. So, I will be expecting some information from you by the end of September. You have one month, because she will be difficult. She would be even for me, and I will be stopping in from time to time if I believe progress is not being made."

"Yes, my lord."

"So you understand everything?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. And anything you get out of her, it comes straight to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"If I am not present, as I will be moving about on important matters more and more in the upcoming weeks, you have permission to tell Severus. But ONLY Severus. Not your father, mother, girlfriend, or anyone else you have in your life. If I catch wind anyone else knows...well, I think you know what will happen, young Draco."

"Yes, my lord. I understand."

"Good. You are dismissed."

Draco bowed his head and walked briskly from the room to his own quarters.

Only when he left the room did he allow his thoughts to surface again. He was furious. Just when he thought he wouldn't be asked to do anything with high stakes after Voldemort's displeasure over Dumbledore, his father and Severus talk him into giving a second chance. A second chance Malfoy couldn't bear the thought of.

_This will ruin everything, _he thought as he opened the door to his room. When he entered the room, he noticed a box which could only be for a wand sitting on his desk. He remembered that his mother was going to find him another wand, since he'd lost his to Potter. As he opened the box, he was distracted by an owl that suddenly flew into his room and perched itself on the chair by his desk his windowsill. As he looked at it he sighed. He was exhausted and hoped it wouldn't be anything important. It was late and he still hadn't had a chance to sleep in all the frenzy after the raid. There were some injuries to attend to, everyone was wondering about the Granger girl, and at least half of the death eaters were conspiring to find Potter themselves to earn Voldemort's favor.

Malfoy grabbed the note from the owl and fed it a treat. It was one he wasn't familiar with. Curiosity piqued, he opened the letter quickly and began to scan it. As he read though, he his mood fell even further as annoyance added onto his already established anger.

_Dear Draco,_

_How are has your summer holiday been? Mine has been lovely. I've been in Nice where I strolled the beautiful French seaside and got a perfect tan. I can't say my French has improved at all, but it is still so beautiful here. What I really wanted to know is if you would like to stop by for tea this Saturday afternoon? We could catch up and I would just love to see you before school starts again._

_Astoria xo_

_XO? _Draco thought to himself, completely confused as to how she got the idea they were ever on "catching up" terms or on anywhere near friendly enough terms to share hugs and kisses in her closing. If they were, she'd know that he wasn't returning to Hogwarts this year. This was the third letter he'd received from her and he planned on ignoring it like the other two. The last thing he needed on top of this horrible assignment was that girl breathing down his neck.

Letting the parchment fall to his desk, he tried to bring his mind back to more important matters. Granger. Torturing Granger. He could hardly wrap his head around what happened in the past few hours to lead to this point. Almost without thinking, he started towards his bed. What he needed was sleep. The exhaustion was getting in the way of his ability to think through what just happened, what he was just asked to do. So he threw himself face first on his bed and slept.

* * *

Three hours later, Draco awoke to the alarm he'd set for retrieving Granger. He pulled himself up from his bed and looked at himself in his mirror real quick, fixing his shirt to get rid of some of the creases that formed during his nap. After a moment of messing with them, he just shrugged and turned to the door. It hardly matter if he looked put together enough to walk to the dungeons to move a prisoner. If his father or anyone else saw him and complained that he looked a mess, he was beyond caring.

What he really wanted at this moment was to get out of this whole situation. He wanted nothing to do with Voldemort, nothing to do with this plan. He wanted to stay the hell away from Granger because she'd never done anything but get under his skin and he certainly didn't care to find out where Potter was. Keeping her as a prisoner here didn't even make sense. They were likely expecting Potter to come to the rescue, which he undoubtedly would, but it was too soon for that kind of attack. The Dark Lord was still gathering his forces and he'd overheard a conversation between his aunt and Severus that suggested he was momentarily in a slightly weakened state. He didn't know why, but their conversation sounded urgent, and Draco tried to hear more, but they had continued down the hall and Draco knew better than to follow. It was all out of his hands anyways.

Everything was out of his hands, even his own life, which was once again on the line. Only this time he knew better than to see any glory in it. He'd made that mistake once before and it nearly got him killed.

_How could I escape from this? _he wondered to himself. It wouldn't make sense to just run. Where would he go? And how could he leave his mother? Draco knew full well he'd gotten himself in over his head and he didn't know where to turn. Almost a year ago he'd been given an assignment that he wanted desperately to succeed in - alone. Now he was wishing Severus would help him again, but he wasn't sure that line would even still be open. All he'd done in the past year was curse him for trying to get involved, for trying to help. He should've taken those offers, he wished he could take him up on that offer now. But he couldn't because he'd ruined it. All because he was blinded by his own childish dream for glory.

But Severus, as he'd noticed had been keeping an eye on him still. They had not spoken much. Although Draco knew he should've thanked him for saving him from killing Dumbledore. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He was getting himself so worked up with his frustrations that when he actually saw Severus coming around the corner of the hallway that led to his father's quarters, he couldn't hold back his fury.

"How could you!" Draco burst out at Severus. He had evidently just been talking with Lucius. This wasn't where he wanted to have this conversation, where they could be overheard, but he had to say something. He also realized as he spoke that this was the first real conversation they'd had in months, and it wasn't exactly the way Draco should've been going about it. Especially from someone who could potentially still help him.

"Me? What are you talking about?" Snape replied, as though he was completely innocent in all things. This made Draco even more angry. He wanted someone to blame - anyone but himself for not having a backbone to do what he really wanted to do. To get the hell out of this mess.

"How could you support this idea? He's trying to get me killed!" Draco said in low tones. It was more than he should've said, but he needed to understand.

"It all worked out last time didn't it?" Snape said calmly. He made to walk around Draco, to avoid his pestering, as he was deep in thought about the state of current affairs and he'd told Draco he'd discuss everything with him later. Not now.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco persisted, after following him down the hall for a good ten seconds to put more space between him and his father's office.

"Whatever do you mean?" Snape asked innocently yet again.

Draco put his hand on Snape's shoulder to stop him. "It's dangerous keeping her here! How can you not realize that? It will bring them right to our feet and it's too soon! Do you not see the danger of having her here?"

"It is better that she's here for the time being...you'll see," Snape said cryptically.

Draco looked at him perplexed. Why was it that although he watched this man kill Dumbledore, he still wasn't sure about what his real motives were. He kept everything hidden, and answered nothing with a clear response. "I am not even sure where your loyalties lie anymore."

Severus smirked. "And what about you Draco?" Snape said becoming more serious in tone. "You're in a very precarious position here, don't you forget it."

Draco scowled. "What are you suggesting?"

"How do you think the Dark Lord would take this line of conversation coming from you?"

Draco was quiet for a moment and looked down. Severus was right. If he was overheard right now, it would be a disaster. This kind of conversation could get them both in trouble for doubting the Dark Lord's orders. But Draco persisted. "I just don't understand why the Dark Lord thinks I should have her. It's Granger! She disgusts me."

"I believe your father put him up to it. But I supported him completely."

"Father? But why should he think she'd be of any interest to me?"

"Use your brain Draco."

Draco thought for a moment. "Father is using me for some scheme to gain favor with the Dark Lord."

Snape gave a curt nod. "He's been concerned about your family's diminished position. You know things haven't been the same since you failed to kill Dumbledore yourself. And there was that disaster of your father's in the ministry before that. The Dark Lord is beginning to think the lot of you aren't...committed."

"He's setting me up to fail!" Draco pointed out yet again. "The only reason I'm not already dead is because he listened to you when you told him without me none of his death eaters would've made it into the castle, even if I didn't manage to kill Dumbledore myself."

"Exactly. So show some gratitude and do this task you were appointed. I supported your father because this job will give you the security you need. And for your family, as I know you desire."

"But Granger will never give me information!" Draco persisted, not seeing any security in the situation. He was certain that within the month he'd be dead, and Granger too for not cooperating.

"You'll think of something."

"You're trying to have me killed too!" Draco seethed.

"Don't be so dramatic. You're starting to sound like a paranoid child."

"What else do you expect to happen?" Draco demanded.

"You will do your job. Now, if you'll excuse me. I must be getting some work done and I believe you have a...guest...to attend to," Snape said with complete finality and Draco knew better than to push him any further.

Malfoy was going to push his father on this, but decided to see Granger for himself first. He also was not up for being shut down in an attempt to get out of this assignment again, which he could already predict would happen.

As he walked to her cell, Malfoy tried to remember the last time he'd even talked to Granger. They made it sound as though he spent a significant amount of time around her every day while in school. But he couldn't even remember the last conversation he'd had with her. In class he pestered her when the moment arose, but aside from that, he did not talk to her. He rarely saw her outside of class or common areas, did not have many more than a handful of conversations with while no one else was present. It was in winter the last time this happened. The memory came to him suddenly.

_"Well, well, Granger is upset. Please tell me it's about that git again," Malfoy said, coming to stand in front of her with an amused expression. It was a deserted hallway, not too far from where he learned the Gryffindor common room was located. She was just leaving a room that she'd evidently been sitting in all alone, crying._

_She looked startled to see him. "Get away from me Malfoy, I'm in no mood."_

_"What were you doing in there, Granger?"_

_She appeared about to answer with something snarky, but then looked at him differently, as though really realizing who she was talking to. "I think a better question is what you've been up to all this year, Malfoy. It's clear you're up to something."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"Don't you remember last year, when you accused us of being up to something?"_

_"Well, you were," Malfoy pointed out._

_"Just as you are now. We know you're up to something."_

_"Don't test me, Granger. You have no idea what I've done. What I'm capable of," he stated, in low, threatening tones._

_She gave him a once over. "You look incredibly sick and hardly capable of anything."_

_"I've been practicing, Granger," Malfoy said, pulling out his wand. "I bet I could take you in a fight this time. In fact, I know I could. Especially when you're this upset, letting your emotions get the better of you."_

_"You think so? Did you see Ronald running down the hall?" Hermione asked drily._

_"You did that?" Malfoy said, and he could hardly keep the amusement and admiration from his voice. He hid in the shadows as he saw Ron running down the hall, shouting and slapping at the birds attacking him. Realizing that she caused that brilliant spectacle he witnessed a few minutes ago made him smile. This internal strife of the trio amused him greatly._

_Hermione actually smirked. "He deserved it."_

_"Because of that Brown girl he was with?"_

_Hermione glared at him, daring him to say more. He didn't, taking her lack of response as his answer. As he looked at her, he almost felt for her, especially as the strain of his own life caught up with him in the few moments of silence. Remembering the internal pain he'd been struggling through, for one moment he didn't want to inflict it on someone else._

_"Again, Granger, because we went over this two years ago, the last time that git pissed you off, you're too smart for him. Bloody moron probably didn't even know what hit him," he said, beginning to laugh at the image of the Weasel running down the hall with the birds pecking at his face. It was something he'd store away in his memory banks for any time he'd need a good laugh in the future._

_"Well, I'll tell you, it's the last time it's happening. I'll show him. Do something like take that wretched McClaggen to the Slug Club Christmas part. See how he likes that."_

_"Ohh, what's this now? Granger is devious too? I never would've guessed."_

_"It's in there, reserved for particular moments for special effect."_

_Malfoy smirked and moved closer to her without realizing what he was doing. He was intrigued by this side of the do-gooder Granger. And he found himself recalling how she looked at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Not even he could deny how stunning she looked. And even now he realized for the first time it didn't take a dress and over the top makeup for her to look as nice. All of her early teenage awkwardness was gone._

_"Well, Granger, I don't doubt you'll handle yourself perfectly. Especially if you look half as good as you did at the Yule Ball," he said as he walked past her, lowering his voice so she had to strain closer to him to hear. "Goodnight, Granger," he said catching site of her perplexed look as he walked away. Let her stew over that._

Malfoy smirked as he remembered the conversation and how he'd left it. He'd always wanted to incorporate more time into his schedule for making Granger uncomfortable, after he realized borderline flirting with her was a perfectly legitimate means for doing so. But plans for Voldemort became too demanding, and he soon forgot all about that conversation. Attempts to remember any conversations after that fell from his mind as he thought of how he could use those tactics in the cell here. But then again, that wouldn't get her to talk. It would just make her uncomfortable, and him too, after a certain point.

* * *

Hermione sat in her cell in almost complete darkness. She shivered continuously as there was a draft coming from somewhere above her and there was no escaping the cold stone of the walls and floor. The only light she saw came from the latch opened to give her food and water each day. She'd only been awake a short time when she was nearly blinded by a sudden onslaught of light coming from the area by the latch.

"Granger," the voice of Draco Malfoy said, and she inwardly groaned. He was here to torment her in some way. To gloat and to demean her in the same childish ways he resorted to all throughout school. She had not seen him when she first arrived, she hadn't even thought of it, and she was mildly surprised to see him here now.

"You have to stand up and follow me."

"Where?" she demanded. She may be a prisoner but she would not roll over. She was determined to find a way out, to never allow the tactics of Voldemort to overcome her senses.

"You will not question me," he said with a warning in his tone.

"Where are you taking me?" she said again without moving.

"Granger, cut the crap. I have a wand, you don't. I can either knock you out and you can be transported there or you can simply accept that you cannot fight here, and walk."

Hermione ground teeth together and stood seething. Finally she said, "Fine, let's go."

Draco then swiftly blind-folded her and guided her to her new chamber.

They reached the room, and Draco promptly removed the blindfold. When Hermione's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she noted all the walls were of large, grey stones, and the floors a dingy pale wood. There was a flimsy looking cot with paper thin sheets and a barely existent pillow. There was a chair in the opposite corner and chains on the left wall. It was one of the smallest rooms she'd ever seen.

Draco swept into the room and pulled the chair into the center of the room, which meant it was practically touching the bed. He sat on it and gestured for her to sit on the bed. Hermione acquiesced, at this point hardly even sure what else she could do. There truly was no way out.

She looked at him, sitting far closer to him than she ever cared to. He wasn't looking directly at her, and it was at this point she recognized he felt uncomfortable, as though he had no idea what he really wanted to say or do.

"Do you know what you're here for, Granger?" he said after a few moments of silence.

She glowered at him, refusing to answer. She noted that he didn't look quite as sick as he had just a few months ago as the school year drew to a close. As he'd been working more and more on that cupboard, he'd started to look worse and worse. He had put on a bit more of his natural weight, the startling grey eyes no longer overshadowed by dark circles from sleepless nights.

He laughed at her frustration. "Actually, forget I asked that," he said before she could open her mouth. "I'll just tell you. Better than hearing whatever obnoxious comment is sure to leave your mouth...you're here to give us information. And I'm to get it out of you. I'm to make you a slave to my will for all intensive purposes. You are expected to bend to my every will and desire, I am expected to break you. However I can do it, just so long as I get information from you."

"I'll never tell you anything. I'd die first," she ground out.

"Yes, that's all very brave and noble of you, but if you know what's good for you, you'll give me information. Any information. And now that we've cleared that up, I'll let you know of the protocols. I'll be down here almost every day. The Dark Lord has declared that getting information from you is my top priority. There is a toilet through the door, there," he said pointing towards the back wall, "and every other day, someone will be down to lead you to a dungeon shower, just down the hall. You're quite lucky. Typically our prisoners just rot in their own filth, but I am to make you bend to me in _any _way possible, so I requested you be..ah..clean, or I'd go nowhere near you."

Hermione blanched. "You'll still stay the bloody hell away from me if you know what's good for you!"

"If you cooperate, we can both avoid that situation, which, I can assure you, I don't care to experience either."

He stood up sharply. "Now, someone will be down in the morning to take you to the showers, and you will receive two meals each day. I'll begin my interrogations tomorrow."

And with that, he swept from the room.

* * *

Draco simply could not linger there. He was uncertain of what exactly he needed to do in order to torture her. He had no experience. Talking to her was out of the question, she was insufferable. Her gall at acting like she still had some authority over her being irritated him because it would make his job that much harder. Why couldn't she just play along?

He wanted to talk to his father now before he went to sleep, to try and understand more why he thinks he needs to be used to prove loyalty to the Dark Lord.

Reaching his office, he knocked. He heard his father's voice beckon him in and he slowly opened the door.

Lucius looked up from his desk only a moment to see who was entering. His eyes then returned to the letter he was writing. "Ah, Draco. Have you seen to your prisoner yet?"

"I have."

"And? What's her condition? Is she likely to give in easily?" Lucius asked, now looking up from his desk.

"Father, what are you thinking, convincing the Dark Lord to let me interrogate her?" he asked in what he hoped was a somewhat polite tone.

Lucius put his quill down and looked sternly at Draco. Draco knew he'd be irritated at having to explain his rationale. "If you succeed, Draco, you will restore our family's name with him. I'm doing what I can! But he cannot be satisfied...I fear we're on our last leg," he admitted softly, letting a small amount of weakness show in his tone.

"I am telling you, I know her, she is Potter's best friend. She'll die first," Draco persisted.

"Draco, I know you want nothing to do with the mudblood bitch. I know you may not yet be comfortable with the methods you may need to use to coerce her. But consider this a practice in the skills you must develop to survive in our world. You exhibited weakness with Dumbledore, no matter how Snape spun that story."

Draco turned to shield his face from his father. He was sick of being told he'd been weak. Who was his father to judge!

"It's time you take your place as a man in this family and do your share of protecting the family honor. And in one year's time, you'll be marrying Astoria. So I suggest you start doing your duty there too and begin playing nice with her."

"Is there anything else father?" Draco remembered a time when he could be a real snot to his father and get his way. Now, when things were on the line, his father was pulling in the reins and Draco knew that if he didn't comply, he'd be on the chopping block.

"That is all you should understand. Now if you've nothing else to discuss, I have some important matters to attend to."

Draco gave a curt nod, still not looking at his father, and then turned from the room. There was no getting out of the assignment. He was doomed, and he felt he was certainly doomed to fail.


	2. Chapter 2

When Draco arrived again the next day, he still did not seem anywhere near comfortable.

"Granger," he said.

Hermione just stared in response.

Malfoy made a frustrated noise and shifted on his feet. "Well, I'm here for the first round of interrogations. I'll be expecting some kind of information out of you on a regular basis if you don't want things to get ugly." He scowled as usual, but he was shifty, seemingly completely uncertain of where to stand, how to stand or where to look, so he paced around before her erratically.

Despite her clear position of vulnerability, Hermione did not feel too threatened by what stood before her. She always knew Malfoy wasn't as tough as he pretended, but this was beyond what she thought. She'd figured he'd be thrilled for this chance to take out his years of tormenting on her to the fullest extent. But instead, he stood in front of her barely making eye contact and half-heartedly made threats.

Finally, he sat down on the only chair in the room. He then looked her full in the face, as though he'd finally decided on something.

"So, anything you'd like to tell me today? You could make this real easy for both of us," he said.

"I'm not telling you anything, Malfoy. You know that I'd rather die than betray Harry."

"But there are worse things than death, you know that Granger." His voice was sounding more and more steady as he continued.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I am aware. But I will suffer through all of that before I give you anything that could help Voldemort."

"What did Voldemort do when he tortured you?"

Hermione was not sure why he asked this, but explained, "His usual, Cruciatus, tried to read my mind, tried veritaserum, but I've been training to resist that and his mind reading. Then he hit me, burned me, you know, usual methods of inflicting pain."

"Hmm. Well, Granger, if you would prefer to avoid all of those situations again, perhaps we can strike a deal where you tell me the information and I won't have to touch you at all."

"Absolutely not. I do not make deals with Death Eaters. You'd never be true to your word. And like I said, I'd go through any pain before betraying the Order," she said adamantly.

Hermione thought he looked increasingly frustrated, and not even sure of what to say. He stood up and thrust the chair behind him. "I will give you time to think over my offer. Be aware, no one else would be so kind."

Hermione was about to respond but he was out of the room in an instant.

Hermione was so perplexed as to why he didn't just begin torturing her as was expected. She of course felt relieved, but this was odd behavior, and she was certain it was not what he was supposed to be doing either. And from his behavior she couldn't tell if she could make him snap into torturing her if she just pushed too much, or if he was trying to work through some internal struggle to find some other way around torturing her.

She just continued to lay on her bed, still tired from the onslaught she received from Voldemort the day before, but also lethargic from having nothing at all to do. It would only be a matter of time before utter boredom began setting in and she started to lose her mind through being separated from the entire world. She would have to remain sharp, always prepare and be prepared for a way out. And always keep track of what Malfoy said to her. Anything could be a lead and her job would be to deconstruct it every way she could.

* * *

Hermione did not see Malfoy the following day, or the day after. She saw no one but the house elf who brought her two measly meals, and she sat in complete silence with nothing to do, nothing to entertain her but her continued pondering over Malfoy's behavior, which still made no sense. She tried to sleep away the time, but eventually couldn't. She tried to find ways to entertain herself, but the walls were bare, there was no window, there was nothing in the room to look at or think about. This was a form of torture in and of itself.

All she could think of was what went wrong to get her to this position. She saw Ginny trying to fight of Bellatrix and ran to help her. She knew Ron and Harry were trying to get away, because that's what everyone wanted and what they did need. She had been looking for them, and heard one of them call her name, but she went in the other direction, towards Ginny. They put up a decent fight, but when the death eaters started getting the idea they weren't going to get who they wanted, Bellatrix stopped fighting and lunged. Hermione tried to fight her off, but was knocked unconscious. The next thing she knows, she's in a dark, cold office with Voldemort standing over her.

Where were Harry and Ron now? Were they safe? She could at least be certain they had not been captured. Or they'd be right here with her. That was one positive. But would they know where she is? She rather hoped not because it would be foolish of them to try breaking her out of Malfoy Manor. She knew it wasn't just the Malfoy's who were here now, not when everyone was preparing for full on war. She hoped Ginny got to safety too. She didn't know if everyone even survived the onslaught. That perfect wedding day, ruined by this horrible people. Hermione wanted to sleep more than ever now just to get the idea of her friends out of her mind. She missed them, wanted to hear their voices. To hear one of Ron's stupid jokes.

She must have fallen asleep, because she was startled awake, when the door opened. She was almost relieved when someone barked at her to get up and follow him to the showers. _It must be morning now_, she thought. She sat up and looked to the door before getting up.

Her escort was Vincent Crabbe. She groaned inwardly, not sure if he or Malfoy was actually worse. At least Malfoy had a brain. She walked over towards him, expecting that he would turn around and walk out the door the next second, the way Theodore Nott had the first day. But instead she found her wrist locked in his grasp and he forced her against the wall. He kept her at arm's length for a moment, looking her over.

"No new bruises?" he said. "Is Draco even doing his job? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I helped him out, made his work a little more visible."

Hermione made to protests, but as she opened her mouth, the back of his and made contact as he slapped her across the mouth. He grabbed her again by her arm, even rougher than before and she knew his hand would leave bruises. She kicked him in the stomach with force, hoping it would be enough to release his grip. Instead, his eyes sparked with fury and his grip tightened. In the next instant, she was thrown onto the floor and she felt her head smack off the wood and the skin split. She tried to prepare herself for the next onslaught, to fight back, but as she lifted her head, she was dizzy.

She tried to see straight above her, but everything blurred. All she could tell was that everything was suddenly darker as a shadow came across her line of vision.

"You'll pay for that, mudblood!"

But before another strike could be taken, she suddenly heard Malfoy's voice.

"Hey, Crabbe! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Crabbe was thrown against the wall, Hermione tried again to sit up. She couldn't move much further, but was able to see Crabbe against the wall with Malfoy's hand around his throat. Crabbe was larger than Malfoy, but it was a largeness that counted for little, as most of it was dead weight. Malfoy was evidently stronger than he looked.

"You think you know better than me how to do my job?" Malfoy sneered. "If that were the case, maybe if you had any brains at all, the Dark Lord would've asked you, not me, isn't that right?"

"I'm sorry," Crabbe gasped as he tried to breathe and explain himself against Malfoy's grip at the same time. "I didn't think you'd mind. I was just roughing her up some more for you."

"I have a plan for her, which no one can interfere with or be privy to aside from the Dark Lord. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Crabbe gasped again.

"If I catch you or anyone else down here without my orders or orders from the Dark Lord, you will pay for it. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Crabbe said. Malfoy must've let go of him because he then scurried out of the room.

She then saw Malfoy's face just above hers. "Come on, Granger, I'll get you cleaned up," she heard him say as he lifted her from the floor. Her eyes fell closed, as it became too much of a strain to keep them open. She was beginning to feel oddly loopy.

He carried her down the hall and into the shower room, which was dark and cold.

She smelled the expensive cologne he wore and inhaled deeply. Compared with the dank, musty smell of the cold dungeon showers, he smelled heavenly.

"Granger? Granger!"

"Hmm?" she replied half-heartedly as she tried to open her eyes. Her head spun as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and she shut her eyes again, falling against the wall weakly.

"Christ, he hit your head hard," she heard him say before he called a name she couldn't quite make out.

After hearing a popping sound, she again heard the man speaking, "Prinky, wash her thoroughly and take as long as necessary. I'll be back shortly with a draught for her. If anyone, and I mean anyone comes down here, you come and get me immediately."

"Yes, sir," a small, high pitched voice replied.

"Come, miss. Prinky will clean you up," Hermione heard from right by her ear and she then felt a stream of warm water falling over her head as she fell out of consciousness.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she woke up back in her bed with her head being tilted up, and a vial before her lips. She started awake, pushing away from the vial in front of her, not trusting it was anything she should be drinking. Even in her diminished state, her guard was up and she needed to do anything to survive.

Malfoy was looking at her in complete shock, clearly not expecting she'd have so much energy.

"Granger, relax. It's to help your wounds heal. And help with the dizziness."

She let the tension out of her body a bit and grabbed the vial he was holding in front of her. She looked at the potion inside and recognized the distinct color and smell of a typical, but powerful pain relieving draught. She drank it down quickly and handed the vial back to Malfoy.

"How long have I been out?" she asked, trying to sit up a little bit on the bed.

She was a little bit unsteady, as the draught would take a little bit to kick in, so Malfoy grabbed a hold of her around her shoulders and helped her to a more seated position. She found his behavior perplexing as he adjusted the pillow behind her so the position would be more comfortable.

"Only an hour," he replied when she was in place.

Hermione nodded. Her head was still spinning so she shut her eyes.

"The potion will take a few minutes or so to really make a difference."

Hermione nodded again.

Malfoy didn't say anything to her, just got up from his seat and grabbed something that had been sitting by the door and placed it on a small stand by her bed.

"I've brought some food when you're feeling up to eating too," he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at the food and then at him skeptically. "What are you doing, Malfoy? Why don't you just do what you really intend to do for information and be done with it?"

"Is that the thanks I get for healing you?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh don't give me that shit, Malfoy. You're only mad because someone touched your toy." She'd heard what he said to Crabbe when he pulled the disgusting lout off her. He didn't care about her well-being, he cared about his plan to torture her not being ruined by someone else.

"Doesn't change the fact I healed you."

"No, but the _why_ is important! Christ, Malfoy, if your plan was to help me so you could hurt me more in the long run, there's nothing noble about that."

"Always miss high and mighty Granger," Malfoy sneered. "Honestly, your friends must be relieved by your absence. I imagine all you do is nag them day and night."

"Not my fault you don't know what genuine kindness is."

"You could at least be thankful, and perhaps even repay me with some kind of information."

"That's not happening, Malfoy. Try another tactic." So there was another way of looking at his actions. The healing, the extra food - which was a more than generous portion of a fruit, eggs, toast, and yogurt.

"It's fine. I'll be down here all day. I've got time to wait," he said, now putting on a false chipper tone.

He then modified the chair into a plush, comfortable looking couch that Hermione eyed enviously from her rickety bed.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said and with a flick of his wand, Hermione's hands were in chains on opposite sides of the bed.

"Let me out of these!" she shouted at him.

"Sorry, can't do that," he said nonchalantly. "Now, I'm going to relax here, and maybe you'll decide to tell me something."

Hermione sat in silence, trying not to betray her bewilderment visually as he pulled a book out of his pocket and enlarged it to its normal size. The guy had come in here to sit in front of her and read? She certainly wouldn't complain, but this was not what she expected when she'd been told she'd be tortured. Unless he was up to something new and more sinister.

After a few minutes of silence, Malfoy looked up from his book. "So what's Potter been up to lately?"

Hermione looked at him like he was insane. When she didn't answer he continued, "Well you said I should get on with my questioning, so that's what I'll do."

Hermione wanted to throttle him. "Well, I couldn't possibly know that, could I? Seeing as I'm stuck in here."

Malfoy smirked. "But you know what his overall plans are. His goals, his aspirations, his dreams."

Hermione again could hardly believe her ears. His tone was playful, as though he were mocking his own position as interrogator. She didn't say anything, just looked at him dumbfounded. He looked at her for a few moments longer before changing the subject.

"Nothing? Well then, have you ever read this, Granger? It's by Henry Wilkhelm - Two Lives of Munhall Manor?"

"No, I haven't," Hermione replied definitively.

"Oh, not as up on wizard literature as you are muggle literature?"

"Actually, I have read many of his other works, including his essays on the proper place of muggles and wizards in relation to each other and I do not care for his ideas. Even his literature, which some consider very progressive is in fact just subtly asserting muggle inferiority and perpetual ignorance," Hermione explained. "Didn't care to read yet another example of that by the same man."

"That's a good assessment of his works, Granger. I was thinking you'd only read muggle literature. But you don't miss anything do you?" He was talking to her in the strangest tone. Condescending, but not bullying. She wondered if he knew exactly what he was really trying to do. Or if he simply didn't know how to carry on a normal conversation with another human being.

"I've been rereading many of the texts I was given by my father at a young age. It's a lot of literature like this. We can use muggles in many ways that benefit us, we can even associate with them, but only for money purposes. But things have become more extreme lately, haven't they?"

"Yes...they certainly have."

"At least before, there were benefits to be had from muggles doing well."

"So you aren't concerned with muggles because they deserve equity, but because if they do well, you do better?"

"I'm not saying that."

"It sounds like it."

"I'm just thinking out loud here. Not expressing any personal opinions."

"Right..." Hermione was thoroughly confused. "So why are you rereading these?"

"I've just been thinking lately about how muggles and mudbloods fit into the Dark Lord's plans."

"Well, he hates us, irrationally, as he's a half-blood himself. You do know that, don't you?" Hermione pointed out.

"Of course I do," Draco retorted as though it was an insulting question. "He's angry that his muggle father abandoned his mother."

"After she tricked him into being with her through magic," Hermione pointed out. "Hardly a saint he left behind when he discovered the truth."

"But I think it's really not even important to him. Not as much anyways as pure power. He can have pure power over muggles, because they could never think of some way to combat his power."

"But he'd never share power, you have to know that."

"Being close to it is enough for some people."

"Is that enough for you?" Hermione asked.

Draco smirked but didn't answer. "I'll ask the questions here, Granger. What do you think he wants to do with you all, with your types once he's killed Potter?"

"Use us as slaves most likely. Use us for rituals or who knows what so he can harness even more dark power."

"It does seem that way...although I can never imagine what we'd need slaves for. We've already got house elves."

"Another colossal injustice," Hermione pointed out drily.

"Oh it's not so bad. They don't even care." Hermione was about to object, but he cut her off, continuing on. "Here's the thing. I don't know what his exact plans are for people like you or for people like myself. I hate not knowing."

"So why do you continue on?" She asked, shocked he was saying anything even along the lines of a question with regards to Voldemort's authority.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Family."

That was no what she expected to hear. "Oh, but that's right," he continued as he clearly had read the look on her face. "We're all just unfeeling monsters over here aren't we? Not a concern in the world except killing mudbloods and muggles for fun, right?"

Hermione shrugged. She didn't feel guilty, as she'd never seen one of them exhibit any ounce of concern for someone else.

Malfoy now looked irritated and uninterested in continuing their conversation. "Well it looks like you don't know everything, Granger. Make sure you get some rest so your head can heal. I'll be back tomorrow," he said and left promptly without waiting for a response.

* * *

Malfoy swept into the room in the morning without so much as a knock and said, "So, have you reconsidered my offer?" He sounded irritatingly happy.

Hermione had been walking around the room, as she couldn't take sitting in her bed any longer. "To make a deal and give you information?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Ah, well, once again, I'll be down here for awhile." Hermione couldn't tell whether his tone was genuine or if it was an air put on as part of some scheme of his.

"That's what you said last time. But then you left when I got too irritating," Hermione replied, sitting in her usual position on the bed.

"Yes, but that's all done now and I've got good news."

"I'm being released?" Hermione said, mocking upbeat his tone.

"Ha. Good one. Actually, I informed the Dark Lord about that moron Crabbe attacking you without authorization, rendering you incapacitated and incapable of manipulating for information and he was punished thoroughly."

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised that any action was taken against her attacker.

"I might have exaggerated for dramatic effect," he said, clearly thinking this was a genius move on his part. "So, he told everyone else that I am the only one permitted to touch you or have any say in the torture techniques. And no one defies his orders."

"Oh," Hermione said again.

"Well, I was expecting a bit more of a response than that."

"I thought you and Crabbe were friends," Hermione replied, avoiding making any kind of concrete response on the matter. His mood swings were disconcerting. He appeared to go from irritated to perfectly content and at ease in the blink of an eye.

Malfoy took it in stride. "Granger, come on now. How could someone with even half a brain be friends with Crabbe or Goyle. They're clearly nothing more than lackeys."

"Do you even have friends?"

Malfoy scowled. Hermione was just waiting for him to be irritated to the point of leaving again. "Of course I have. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini. They're decent to be around and actually capable of carrying on a conversation."

"I didn't know Zabini was heavily involved with the Death Eaters."

"Oh, he's not. I don't see him much anymore. Not since the Dark Lord has been using the Manor for more and more of his operations."

Hermione nodded. She wanted to know why he was being so pleasant. Answering so many of her questions.

"How's your head?"

At that she just couldn't keep it in anymore. "Malfoy, what on earth are you doing? Is this some other tactic of yours? Be perfectly pleasant and chummy with me so I might spill some information because I'm just so grateful you haven't done anything else?"

Malfoy's face contorted. She couldn't tell if he wanted to scowl again or smirk. He leaned forward on the chair, putting his elbows on his thighs, letting his clasped hands fall between his knees. "Granger, I can only be so patient. But if you want to push me there -"

His words were interrupted when he heard his aunt's shrill voice coming down the hall.

"Yes, I would love to show my dear nephew ways to take advantage of the mudblood, my Lord."

Malfoy's eyes grew wide, and before Hermione could plead with him, he had his wand out. Her body was flung into the shackles on the opposite wall. Her hands spread above her head, her feet barely touching the floor so there was a deep strain on her hands.

The door opened not a moment later, and Bellatrix and Voldemort stood before them.

"Ah, I see you've already started, Draco," Bellatrix said with pleasure. "Please do share what you were going to do with us."

"Actually, aunt, I overheard you in the hallway, and I'm certain there's nothing I could do that would come close to the mastery you could exhibit. In fact, I'd been wanting to ask you for some pointers."

"How perfect," Voldemort said. "Go on, Bellatrix. It's exactly what you came here to do."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. Until now she'd been able to avoid this insane woman, who in many ways could be more terrifying than Voldemort himself, as she seemed exponentially more mentally unstable. There was no predicting what she would do.

"Now watch carefully, Draco," she said with a devious smile as she raised her wand.

The manacles began to move apart, and Hermione screamed as her arms were pulled near out of her sockets. "Now that's far more uncomfortable, you see."

She then made a series of slashing movements with her wand and Hermione felt her skin being sliced open on her legs and arms, not deep enough to bleed. No, this was not like the spell Harry had used on Malfoy. It was even worse, because you would not bleed out and eventually feel no pain, but the cuts opened and closed over and over again, each time with more pain than the last.

"Want to share anything yet?" Bellatrix cooed.

Hermione shut her eyes against the pain and against the horrific faces in front of her.

"Ah, ah, now, open your eyes."

Against her wishes, her eyes were thrust open wide, she couldn't even blink and her eyes began to water and feel painfully uncomfortable. She looked at Malfoy with hatred. He had fed her to this monster when he knew he wouldn't have been capable of anything nearly as cruel. He didn't even look at her eyes. Just watched stoically as her body writhed in pain.

Bellatrix then moved closer to her and pressed the tip of her wand into her neck, where her skin was sensitive. Her wand felt like a branding iron, and Hermione tried to jerk back from the heat, but couldn't and screamed again as her skin was seared.

"Bellatrix, come away now. I tried these all last time. But I fear she doesn't respond to physical pain. Let me try something new."

Bellatrix looked a little disappointed at having her fun put to an end, but was also excited to see what new technique she could learn from her master.

Voldemort now stood before Hermione, and she had no choice but to look into those snake-like eyes. "Let's see how you stand against this," he said.

Suddenly everything was dark. Completely dark and cold. _Where am I? _Hermione wondered to herself. She shivered and listened for sound nearby but couldn't hear anything. _This is odd. But I could've sworn...I was just...but where was I? If I'm here, then where was I before and where is this now? Wasn't I in the middle of something? _Suddenly she heard a noise, as though it came from behind her. But she couldn't move. _Hello? _she tried to say. But she couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything and she was beginning to feel this rising tension in her body. _I'm stuck here but I'm missing something, what is it that I'm missing. I need to find it! My life depends on it, it's why I'm stuck here, but how can I move. _The urgency in her body rose with every second. She felt anxious, she felt stuck, and scared. The sensation intensified, until she felt herself coming to tears, crying, whimpering at the feeling of being completely abandoned and uncertain of everything.

When she reached this point, she heard a voice, "_Tell me what I want and all of this will end. I know how to end it for you."_

_"What do you want to know?" she said back, frantically._

_"What can you tell me about Harry Potter?"_

Alarms went off in her head. _Bad idea _she thought. She didn't know why, something told her it was a bad idea. _But would it be worse than this? _Another voice asked her. _Suppose just one thing...one thing couldn't hurt. This hurts. _She debated in her mind, but the voice telling her it was a bad idea came to the forefront, until heard her own voice shouting to drown out the other telling her it would be okay to tell just one piece of information. Her voice rose with emphasis -_No! NO! _she shouted in her mind and suddenly she regained consciousness.

She felt the tears streaming down her face, that weren't at all only in her head, and she was breathing heavily. In front of her Voldemort looked angry that his plan didn't work and Bellatrix looked like she'd been enjoying the spectacle in front of her all too much, even if it didn't turn out any information. Behind them, Draco stood betraying no emotion, except that his hands were curled into fists. He was angry at something, perhaps something had happened while she was stuck inside her mind, something she couldn't hear or see.

"Hmm...almost," Voldemort hissed. He turned abruptly and Bellatrix followed his lead, leaving Hermione in her hanging position. "Come with us into the hall, Draco," he said. Draco followed them out without a glance in Hermione's direction.

Hermione wondered how long she would be left to hang here, her shoulders and wrists now burning from the strain. It was close, she'd come far too close to sharing information. Whatever kind of spell he was using, Hermione couldn't tell. She had never heard of it or encountered it before, but it was one that could break someone easily. Even with all the time she'd spent training herself for attempts at mental break-ins, it was a close call. She felt terrible, and fearful of another onslaught. Perhaps it would be easier next time, because she'd know what to expect. Or it could become more intense with time. She had no idea, but felt more fearful than she had yet that Voldemort would get something out of her.

Only a couple minutes had passed before Draco walked back into the room. He now wore his fury openly on his face. He immediately relinquished the hold of the chains on her wrists and using magic, levitated her to her bed. He called for his house elf who arrived with a pop.

"Prinky, bring me healing materials. Quickly," he ordered.

"Yes, master," she said and disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared.

Draco pulled the chair up to her bed and examined her wounds. "I was told to leave you like this. Maybe the wounds would become infected and then you'd talk in exchange for medicine."

Hermione's eyes grew in alarm.

"You're going against his orders?" Hermione said with shock.

"He's leaving with my aunt on some mission. So no, I'm not," Malfoy replied shortly.

Hermione wanted to catch his eyes, to get a better idea of what he was thinking, but he wouldn't make eye contact with her. Just examined the wounds left on her arms and two on her legs.

"I'm surprised the spell she used left these wounds open. Usually they just close up once the spell ends. She must have modified it. You're lucky you aren't bleeding more than you are now."

"Do you think regular healing potion will heal them?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded. "I have access to Severus' secret stocks. He has something that can cure any wound. Literally any wound."

Prinky arrived again with a bag full of materials. Draco conjured a table to lay them out on and then asked Hermione to sit up so he could heal her.

For the second time now, Malfoy was healing her after she'd been torn apart. She recognized this was not at all what he was supposed to be doing and felt thankful. It was difficult to sit up, so he helped her into a seated position. She tried to give him a smile, but she couldn't even move her neck without straining he damaged muscle and the wound she had on her upper shoulder and base of her neck. Some of those cuts Bellatrix had made were deeper than she thought, and the strain from hanging on the wall had made her muscles sore beyond belief. Malfoy stopped her from moving her head, placing his hand on the other side of her neck and holding her head steady. She resolved not to move again, but Malfoy couldn't know that and he left his hand there, as his other hand washed the wound with a healing potion. The pressure of his hand lessened, and every time his fingers gently moved or placed the slightest pressure on the nape of her neck she went through a series of chills and found herself relaxing. She'd forgotten it was a sensitive spot and had always found it so relaxing to be touched there. He didn't say anything as he worked, and her thoughts went back to the form of torture she'd just received. She sat, staring at the floor just beside him, her eyes hard, barely blinking. She wanted to keep those thoughts at bay, but couldn't. The sensation of being so alone, so alone and confused that she would almost betray her every instinct was too fresh and it horrified her. She felt her mood plummeting as she thought about it, and it took over every other thought in her mind.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when she suddenly heard Malfoy say, "Did you share anything with him? Through your mind I mean." Her eyes flew to his, as she'd almost forgotten about him there, although he was the one touching her, healing her. She'd become so caught up in her thoughts, it was as though nothing else was present.

"Granger, what did he do?" Malfoy asked.

"He performed a spell even I am unfamiliar with, I wouldn't be surprised if he created it, but I felt...I felt as though I'd lost my mind. Like I was lost and alone and cold, and I knew no one, had no one. I was searching frantically for something. I was in that state until I felt extremely vulnerable, then he said if I told him what he wanted that he'd give me what I wanted, he'd take the confusion away. And I almost gave in. I almost did. It scared me."

Given her outward appearance, he was surprised she didn't let up any information, but she was stronger than he thought. The question had triggered something in her, however, and he saw a silent stream of tears. Malfoy sat there, his hand now resting gently on her shoulder and suddenly she swayed, as though the pressure of the last hour finally took over. Her body fell away from his and he had to bolt out of his chair to grab her and pull her upright. He moved her gently to her bed, which was luckily only a few steps away from the chair she was seated in. Hermione felt beaten, utterly beaten, and without even thinking, because her brain was beyond that capability, her body fell forward and her face landed in Malfoy's chest. Silent tears poured from her eyes as her body shook, finally releasing the terror she'd felt in all the time Voldemort tortured her.

Malfoy stiffened at first, completely unsure of what to do, but after a moment, he placed one hand on her back and another on the back of her neck.

"Why do you remain so loyal to those two? Where do you find the courage?"

"It's not even about courage. It's just about be true to those who are true to you. And not just to me, but they are kind and generous towards all people. That's what counts."

"But what if someone just seems like that but turns out not to be?"

"You just have to take a chance sometimes. But most people are good overall. And while you can never really know anyone, the more you get to know someone, especially in certain types of situations, you know you can trust them. Harry, Ron, and I have almost died together too many times now for us to be concerned with that."

"Would you be as close to them without those experiences?"

"I don't know. We have the lot we've been given, or created by our own choices, and we've gone with it. Don't see the point in considering what might have been, because that's not what is."

"Sometimes I wonder..." Malfoy began, but then trailed off.

She finally really looked at him. "Wonder what?"

"What I'm really doing."

"I wonder what the hell you're doing too," Hermione replied.

She continued looking at him. His actions really were perplexing. Why go against his orders and heal her? Why hadn't he tortured her?

"I'll leave you now," Malfoy said, and stood up suddenly.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Will he be coming back down?" Hermione tried to keep the fear out of her voice. She hoped she didn't sound too desperate.

"Not for awhile. He and my aunt are leaving for three weeks. They're going to search for something he says he needs."

"Do you have any idea what that is?" She said, suddenly more alert.

Malfoy shook his head. "I don't. No one but my aunt is included in this concern of his."

Hermione laid back down on the bed fully, but he could tell she was still deep in thought. "Just relax, Granger. You need rest and there's nothing you can do about it now. If I get word he's coming back, I'll tell you immediately."

Hermione nodded and then turned to face the wall as he left the room.


End file.
